Woe is me

Let me just say it (mainly because I want sympathy) never in my life have I ever been so ill! I’m a hundred percent convinced that I have caught some medieval ailment that is entirely immune to all treatments, commercial or hippy. No amount of Vicks, lemsip or bizarrely brewed tea seems to shift it. A month of coughing and spluttering has broken me! 
To make matters worse a tale of betrayal most foul from my exploding hot water bottle lead to an almost recovery becoming the closest to death I have ever felt- Freezing ice water down your back at 5am does not put one on the road to recovery.
The highlight of this has definitely been my little brother’s friend finding me curled on my bed a snotty, weepy. Whimpery mess (I wish I could be one of those ladies in paintings to swoon on antique fainting couches whilst delicately pressing a hanky to their mouth and dying of consumption – no such luck). My patheticness lead to him returning from a booze run brandishing fistfuls of tissue packets- never have I been so greatful!

To make matters worse I have abandoned adulthood to scuttle back to Scotland for the sympathy I need. I am being punished for my wussyness by being in the busiest train imaginable with my knees under my chin and my back pack wedgeing my legs against the wall and making it impossible to cough without waking/kicking/ head butting the person next to me.

Anyway ranty whinge over! Here’s to all those suffering from the autumnal germ pit that is the London Underground – perhaps if I stifle my cough long enough I’ll be cured??